


in the backyard full of dying flowers

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:42:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27465886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Israfel and Claude take a detour and, in a moment of intimacy, learn that their tendencies to view skewed versions of each other haven't changed.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	in the backyard full of dying flowers

“Well,” says Israfel from his chair, “We’ve got a moment to ourselves.”

Claude balances himself between Israfel’s knees — though the ornate mask hides his face, his bright blue eyes peer up at him. This is the closest thing we will ever have, his eyes seem to say, I will do what you want because I want it, too, but know that we won’t be able to have anything more. You don’t see me, you don’t even see the mask I wear. You’re a poet, twisting words and sculpting me into something you want to see.

He pulls down Israfel’s clothes, rough grey trousers and underwear giving way to pale, pale flesh wrapped tightly around bony legs. Claude closes his eyes, ducking his head down and taking Israfel past his lips. His mouth is soft, silk-like with spit and smooth against Israfel. He wants to tell Claude that he is wrong for thinking those things, and that everything has changed and he understands. But he never will. _I love you,_ Israfel wants to say, _But the version of you I fabricated._

“—Gods,” Israfel lets slip out. He twists a little in the chair, angling himself so as to better fit in Claude’s mouth. Fingers come to curl around soft blonde hair, clinging to it. If he closes his eyes and forgets that it’s Claude’s voice when he softly exhales and makes noises, they can pretend that they are strangers. Hands glide up to rest on his legs.

He stops pretending for a moment. The masks may be ornate but they cannot disguise everything, after all.

“ _Claude_ ,” he lets escape through a clenched jaw. He gets no response, just more of Claude quietly tasting him. Teeth tease against him for a second, his legs shake a little—

And then it’s over. With a mangled exhale Israfel feels his muscles clench and unclench and the tingling sharpness that occupied him for a moment crescendoes and then fades. Claude pulls away from him, wipes his mouth. Perhaps the part that stings Israfel the most are his eyes: So soft and strikingly blue, not a hint of sharpness but still _knowing_. 

They’re quiet for a moment. Then—

“I suppose we ought to head back to the dance,” Claude says softly.

“Yes, it wouldn’t be wise to keep Dacio waiting.”

Though he can see Claude’s mouth and eyes through the elaborately-decorated mask, he can’t make out the particular way his expression might shift. Israfel closes his eyes and redresses himself, ready to slip out of the little study they crammed themselves into and back into the throes of the ballroom lit by golden light once more.

“Maybe I can dance with you later. This doesn’t have to be our last meeting for the night.”

Israfel nods. “I’ll think about it. Perhaps I might seek you out later for a dance.”

But he never does.

**Author's Note:**

> ...these characters have quite a history behind them, if you couldn't tell. if you also couldn't tell, this was wayyyy back when i adhered far too strictly to the rule of showing, not telling in writing.
> 
> please note, as listed on my profile already: comments are disabled because i don't want to get any adults who might come across my work in trouble for interacting with me through explicitly sexual content! i want to write explicit content, but i know that it is also just as important to keep myself safe.
> 
> that aside, though, i do hope those of you who read this short piece of fiction did enjoy it for what it was.


End file.
